


A Discovery of Scars

by SecretlyFamous



Series: The Discovery Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Happy Ending, John Watson you keep me right, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyFamous/pseuds/SecretlyFamous
Summary: John goes to Baker Street on a night shortly after Sherlock's return is made known to him. He plans to confess his love for Sherlock but he could never have predicted what Sherlock was to confess to him.





	A Discovery of Scars

**A Discovery of Scars**

 

John Watson hadn’t been able to get Sherlock Holmes out of his mind. That was nothing new. In fact, that had been the case for the past five years including the two years he was gone from his life. The truth was he was never really gone. The presence of Sherlock Holmes was permanent, a part of him the way his military career or meeting Mary was. This inescapable presence was what brought him back to Baker Street that night. Two nights before Sherlock had made his presence known in his life once again by interrupting what was meant to be the biggest night of his new life so far. But he was secretly glad it had been interrupted. Now he was more than secretly glad he was nearly ecstatic at the second chance he was getting. He was self-conscious of the bottle of wine he had brought. He wondered if that was too obvious. He had gone over and over the events leading up to the moment he was now in a thousand times. He had told Mary he was spending the night at his old flat so he could finish packing for the final move to hers early. For two years he had been dreaming about what would happen, what he would say, what he would have said if Sherlock had never left. Now a million ideas were running through his head and he didn’t even care that he would know he had shaved for Sherlock Holmes.

His heart raced as he walked up the familiar steps and he breathed in as the familiar smell of a fire in the fireplace mixed with tobacco ash hit him before the sight of the dimly lit living room did. Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room in a dark suit even at this late hour. John couldn’t tell if he had gotten dressed for him or if he was still dressed from the events of the day. Either option seemed out of character. John couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello, John,” Sherlock didn’t smile back. He looked nervous which gave John a sinking feeling as he realized this was the first time they had been alone in two years.

“John, I...I’m sorry,” Sherlock looked down at the rug beneath his feet because he wished he could sink through it at that moment.

“Sherlock, don’t,” John took a step forward.

“No, John,” he looked back up at John with tears in his eyes. That’s when John knew. He had suspected before but that’s when he knew. He walked into the room closing the gap between them just a little more. He put the bottle down on the little table beside his own chair before turning to him and taking a deep breath. He was acutely aware that if he had read the situation wrong there would be more to overlook than the presence of the bottle but he reached for him anyway. He didn’t pull him over toward himself, he didn’t even step further into his space and assert himself the way he always imagined. Instead John took Sherlock’s hands and was relieved when Sherlock closed the rest of the gap between them and their lips met with just as much intensity as their eyes had. John’s heart was racing more than he had expected and all the air left his lungs at once. When they pulled apart John couldn’t help but notice the tears were still in Sherlock’s eyes and he knew there was something he would have to say or it would be hanging between them forever even if Sherlock was the only one who could sense it. “No more silence, OK?” John laced their fingers together for a second before letting go and putting his hands on Sherlock’s arms. “Let’s talk.”

Sherlock nodded in an odd silence for someone who was agreeing to talk.

“Let me put that another way. You talk, I’ll listen. It’s been two years for you too,” John smiled. 

That made Sherlock relax a little and he smiled. “It really has.”

John smiled a little more and he led him to the kitchen where he made tea for the both of them. He was aware that this was not how he imagined this night would go but it seemed right. For the first time in a long time he felt normal. As he sat the cups on the table he noticed Sherlock was sitting on the edge of his chair. It wasn’t unusual for him to perch like that but at the table he never sat like that unless he was looking through his microscope.

Other than that he was sitting with his hands steepled under his chin in thought. John knew he was calculating everything he was about to say as if it hadn’t been calculated enough over the last two years. John sighed as he sat across from him.

“I’m not good at this,” Sherlock said putting both of his hands around the cup in front of him. “Apologies I mean.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” John said. “No, sorry, you’re right.”

Sherlock laughed a little. “This isn’t going very well, is it?”

“It really isn’t,” John started laughing next.

“Sorry...oh god, I need to stop that,” Sherlock laughed harder which made John laugh harder. 

“OK, start again,” John tried to stop the giggle loop before it got worse. “Can I ask you something?” John continued when they had stopped gasping for air but the smiles had not left their face.

“Anything,” Sherlock wiped a tear from one eye.

“Why are you sitting like that?” John asked.

“Like what?” Sherlock looked like he genuinely didn’t realize what he was talking about.

“All, kind of up on the edge like that? Like you’re ready for anything,” John became aware of his slightly mocking tone as the smile faded from Sherlock’s face.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a side effect,” Sherlock tried to avoid the subject as he took a sip of tea.

“Sherlock, I’m a doctor,” John reminded him.

“I had experiences while I was away,” Sherlock tried to end it there.

The spark of realization entered John’s mind but he didn’t want to believe it. “Sherlock, what happened?”

Sherlock took a deep breath and straightened his back even more. He was searching for the right words but John could tell he wasn’t finding them. “It’s easier if I just show you.”

This surprised John for more reasons than one. The thought of Sherlock being in pain real or imagined was too much for him to absorb but it was increasingly more likely. He nodded. “OK we can...we can do that.”

John followed Sherlock up the stairs to his bedroom. John closed the door behind them and Sherlock took his jacket off and laid it on the bed before starting to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t quite what John expected but what he saw next was almost too much. The normally perfect skin on his back was interrupted by harsh scars that slashed through the landscape in every direction. He couldn’t control the sharp breath in as they were revealed to him but he stepped closer as his composure returned.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” John reached out and touched one of the scars. Even with his gentle touch Sherlock flinched a little. It was clear that the wounds had been healed for a while but it would take a long time for him to get past the tenderness.

“It was necessary,” Sherlock picked his shirt up off the bed. “You’re lucky you only have a sister,” Sherlock smiled at him as he turned to face him. 

“No, Sherlock, that’s not OK,” John was near tears himself now.

“Were you always this protective of me?” Sherlock teased still trying to change the subject.

“You know I was,” John was starting to think letting him change the subject was better after all.

“I know you were,” Sherlock smiled and it occurred to John that he wasn’t just avoiding talking about the pain but this was actually making him happy. Being with John was actually making him happy. He forgot about his own insecurity as he pushed Sherlock’s hand back toward the bed to stop him from putting his shirt back on. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s waist as he bent to kiss him this time truly, deeply with no hesitation or uncertainty. 

Sherlock placed little kisses on John’s cheek until he reached his ear and whispered: “John Watson, make love to me.”

“Oh, god yes,” John couldn’t have stopped the words from leaving his lips if he wanted but no sooner had they escaped into the air but he found his clothes being removed half by himself and half by Sherlock. They moved to the bed and John found himself dangerously close to losing all control as Sherlock nipped at his fingertips. John buried his face in Sherlock’s neck and he moaned at the contact. Before he could think Sherlock was wrapping his arms and legs around him and turning them over so John was on his back. John caught Sherlock’s bottom lip in his teeth for a second before licking and kissing him as if it was the last time he would ever get the chance. Sherlock moaned from somewhere deep within that seemed to resonate throughout both of them and began moving down planting hot kisses down John’s neck and chest. “Fuck, Sherlock,” John was barely audible as Sherlock took his length in his mouth. John was helpless to do anything but grip the bed on either side of himself. He watched as Sherlock, all ivory and beautiful dark curls in the moonlight, lowered himself onto John slowly. John’s hands found their way to Sherlock’s hips and he watched as Sherlock wrapped his own long fingers around his length still raising and lowering himself onto John with precision. It wasn’t long before Sherlock was being controlled by John. His fingers were pressing into his hips as John thrust up into him. Every breath, every touch just made him want more.

“Fuck, Sherlock,” John watched as Sherlock’s hand stroked as expertly as John had always imagined. John dug his fingers into Sherlock’s skin as he filled him and watched as Sherlock’s head was thrust back with the force of his own orgasm. John’s awareness of every touch Sherlock placed on his body in those last few moments when Sherlock was bending toward him and wrapping him in his arms, laying on his chest, panting making his skin hot and alive. 

“John Watson, you keep me right,” Sherlock smiled into John’s skin as he planted a kiss on his chest before he looked at him with a sparkle in his eyes. “Now, about that wine you brought.”

John smiled. “Of course you noticed.”

  
  


 


End file.
